Reyna was always a queen.
You could see the spirit in her eyes, even when she was left shattered, broken and ragged. Her unfathomable eyes burned in an exciting, almost feverish shade of brown, so fierce and so bright like her life was about to explode.
Splendid.
Regal.
Short-lived.
An aurora of beauty surrounded her, like a shroud of silk. It emitted a kind of beauty that was almost mortifying, foreboding her downfall. Something so glorious would not last through the course of time.
What is defeated may never be broken, but
rises again, harder and stronger.
One day, she promised herself, one day, all will bow to me.
When Blackbeard beat the hell out of her, she did not complain. She lied on the floor as he kicked her brutally in the shine. She bit her lips, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing she whine.
She did not flinch a bit when Hylla left her for Amazon, although her heart felt it was run through with a knife. She stood there silently and watched Hylla strode away, not bothering to glance back for once. My only family, she thought to herself bitterly, gone, for good.
In the wolf house, she had been trained ruthlessly. Her legs were sore and her arms were so heavy she could barely lift them. There was a cut behind her back, screaming for attention. Yet Lupa launched for her throat once again, and she did not beg for mercy. She rolled, got on her feet again and slashed again with all her
strength. Blood fell on her face, as heavy as summer rain and as warm as fire. She
never felt so alive.
A queen I am. And a queen I shall be.
It had always been her fate to fight and conquer.
When she was with Circe, she hated the coaxing and seductive magic. Potions and
spells were never her things. In her battle, she drew her sword and slain. The
clashing of the sword, the sound of the blowing horn, the roaring of the soldiers rang as sweet as music in her ears.
I am Reyna, daughter of Bellona, praetor of twelfth legion, Senator of New Rome.
She stood on the pavilion, staring down at the soldiers from different leagues, her white royal cloak flipped in the blowing wind. Her thoughts staggered as her sight lingered around the missing spot beside her.
Never so mighty, yet, never so alone.
It will go away, she tried to convince herself.
It will.
Not this time. Another voice whispered, not this time.
In her heart, she knew it is true: she would never forgive Jason, nor she would ever forget him.
The first time she saw him, the sight of him almost blinded her. The sun kissed his
hair and it glimmered like imperial gold. His crystal blue eyes, like the grand
sky, so deep and so vast, Reyna felt she was staring right into his soul.
Love was utter madness.
She should have known.
They say that it is the most grandiose of all, but Reyna knew better. It is nothing but a curse.
It is irrational, it is maniac,it is chaotic.
She was just another trophy, another prey, and another victim.
It was then she knew why the Romans respect Venus’ power so much.
She cursed the goddess spitefully.
The thoughts of him consumed her, engulfed her, haunted her.
She should have known better.
They were a song of love and doomed and
they were destined to fall.
Only then did she let a tear shed.
There she stood, slowly absorbing every little detail of his countenance.
His laugh. His smile. His voice.
Beside him, stood the girl, innocent and naïve without the slightest tint of pollution. She was the purest bud showered in the spring breeze. If only, she thought to herself, if only she was not so perfect. Reyna was many things, but being sweet was not one of them. Life had not only strengthened her body, but also hardened her soul. The sight of them together left a bitter taste in her mouth, like the most deadly venom of all, slowly eroding her heart.
Jason Grace searched for her eyes, almost begging,pleading for forgiveness. The first time in her life, Reyna ran away from something. Involuntarily, she cringed and averted her gaze carefully. She willed herself not to look into his direction again.
Family. Duty. Honor. Reyna reminded herself.
Be composed, be stoic, like a good praetor should be.
What about me? A tiny part of her screamed,what about me?
What about you? Another voice mocked and sneered.
A queen you might be Reyna, you would always be forlorn, abandoned and doomed.
Always, always, always, they chanted in
their thousand voices, like a vicious prayer.
You could see the spirit in her eyes, even when she was left shattered, broken and ragged. Her unfathomable eyes burned in an exciting, almost feverish shade of brown, so fierce and so bright like her life was about to explode.
Splendid.
Regal.
Short-lived.
An aurora of beauty surrounded her, like a shroud of silk. It emitted a kind of beauty that was almost mortifying, foreboding her downfall. Something so glorious would not last through the course of time.
What is defeated may never be broken, but
rises again, harder and stronger.
One day, she promised herself, one day, all will bow to me.
When Blackbeard beat the hell out of her, she did not complain. She lied on the floor as he kicked her brutally in the shine. She bit her lips, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing she whine.
She did not flinch a bit when Hylla left her for Amazon, although her heart felt it was run through with a knife. She stood there silently and watched Hylla strode away, not bothering to glance back for once. My only family, she thought to herself bitterly, gone, for good.
In the wolf house, she had been trained ruthlessly. Her legs were sore and her arms were so heavy she could barely lift them. There was a cut behind her back, screaming for attention. Yet Lupa launched for her throat once again, and she did not beg for mercy. She rolled, got on her feet again and slashed again with all her
strength. Blood fell on her face, as heavy as summer rain and as warm as fire. She
never felt so alive.
A queen I am. And a queen I shall be.
It had always been her fate to fight and conquer.
When she was with Circe, she hated the coaxing and seductive magic. Potions and
spells were never her things. In her battle, she drew her sword and slain. The
clashing of the sword, the sound of the blowing horn, the roaring of the soldiers rang as sweet as music in her ears.
I am Reyna, daughter of Bellona, praetor of twelfth legion, Senator of New Rome.
She stood on the pavilion, staring down at the soldiers from different leagues, her white royal cloak flipped in the blowing wind. Her thoughts staggered as her sight lingered around the missing spot beside her.
Never so mighty, yet, never so alone.
It will go away, she tried to convince herself.
It will.
Not this time. Another voice whispered, not this time.
In her heart, she knew it is true: she would never forgive Jason, nor she would ever forget him.
The first time she saw him, the sight of him almost blinded her. The sun kissed his
hair and it glimmered like imperial gold. His crystal blue eyes, like the grand
sky, so deep and so vast, Reyna felt she was staring right into his soul.
Love was utter madness.
She should have known.
They say that it is the most grandiose of all, but Reyna knew better. It is nothing but a curse.
It is irrational, it is maniac,it is chaotic.
She was just another trophy, another prey, and another victim.
It was then she knew why the Romans respect Venus’ power so much.
She cursed the goddess spitefully.
The thoughts of him consumed her, engulfed her, haunted her.
She should have known better.
They were a song of love and doomed and
they were destined to fall.
Only then did she let a tear shed.
There she stood, slowly absorbing every little detail of his countenance.
His laugh. His smile. His voice.
Beside him, stood the girl, innocent and naïve without the slightest tint of pollution. She was the purest bud showered in the spring breeze. If only, she thought to herself, if only she was not so perfect. Reyna was many things, but being sweet was not one of them. Life had not only strengthened her body, but also hardened her soul. The sight of them together left a bitter taste in her mouth, like the most deadly venom of all, slowly eroding her heart.
Jason Grace searched for her eyes, almost begging,pleading for forgiveness. The first time in her life, Reyna ran away from something. Involuntarily, she cringed and averted her gaze carefully. She willed herself not to look into his direction again.
Family. Duty. Honor. Reyna reminded herself.
Be composed, be stoic, like a good praetor should be.
What about me? A tiny part of her screamed,what about me?
What about you? Another voice mocked and sneered.
A queen you might be Reyna, you would always be forlorn, abandoned and doomed.
Always, always, always, they chanted in
their thousand voices, like a vicious prayer.
